


A Lullaby

by Sinclaironfire



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Kinda, Mama Coco babysits Miguel, Nostalgia hits hard, She remembers Hector, Who wants Mama Coco feels?, there's some angst in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 09:10:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12980820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinclaironfire/pseuds/Sinclaironfire
Summary: Coco finally gets the chance to babysit her newest grandson, Miguel. He reminds her of her father.





	A Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Upperstories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Upperstories/gifts).



> Written because Upperstories asked for it and I like making people sad.

It was a rare day in Santa Cecilia that the Rivera shoe shop was closed but then again it was a special occasion. Carmen had gone into labor and had given birth to the latest Rivera, Rosa. The family rushed off to welcome the newborn baby girl except for the family’s matriarch, Socorro, and her great-grandson Miguel.

Miguel, only six months old, was running a slight fever. Coco had offered to watch him while everyone else went to celebrate Rosa’s birth. Enrique and Luisa swore they would be back as soon as they could. Coco told them to take their time. It wasn’t every day she got to spend time with her latest great-grandson but she cherished each moment that she got. The newborn was currently sleeping in his crib. He had a shock of black hair and a dimple but only on one side of his face.

“You look so much like him,” Coco sighed.

It was uncanny the resemblance Miguel had to her father but she was grateful for it. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, her mind was slipping. It was getting harder to recall things. She remembered her father’s smile, a guitar being softly strummed but his voice? She couldn’t remember what her father sounded like. If it wasn’t for the picture that she kept in her bedroom, she wasn’t sure that she would remember what he looked like.

Miguel woke up. He fussed in his crib and whined. Tiny chubby hands reached out to her. Coco’s heart melted and she took him out and rocked him.

“What’s wrong, my love? Miss your Mama and Papa?” she asked. A tiny cry was Miguel’s answer. “I miss my Mama and Papa too…”

Miguel bawled and Coco hushed him. “You don’t want to wail like that, mi amor. It’s bad for your vocals. My Victoria shredded her voice by wailing like you.”

Miguel didn’t care. He continued to cry. He wanted his parents. Coco rocked him back and forth but it brought no relief to the baby boy. There was only one thing that Coco knew for certain that would calm him. But how did the words go? In the past, she knew them well but her memories were slipping from her mind.

“Ay, Socorro, you know this,” she scolded herself. “Try to remember…”

She could hear the melody but the words were jumbled up. Different voices, none of them were her father’s voice, were singing the song in a newer and faster way. How did it go? How was it meant to be sung?

“Remember me, though I have to say goodbye. Remember me, don’t let it make you cry. For even if I’m far away, I hold you in my heart. I sing a secret song to you, each night we are apart,” softly and sweetly she sang the lullaby her father would play for her. In the back of her mind, like a dying ember, she could hear her father’s voice. It was the first in decades that she remembered what he sounded like. “Remember me, though I have to travel far. Remember me, each time you hear a sad guitar. Know that I’m with you the only way that I can be…” Her father’s voice faded from her mind. “Until you’re in my arms again…remember me…”

Coco lost him again. She tried to remember but his voice was gone. She sighed and tried not to cry. Miguel had fallen asleep in her arms and she would hate to wake him up. Carefully, she put her great-grandson back into his crib. She retired to her rocking chair and searched her mind for her father’s voice again but it was no use. Age had claimed it. It was only a matter of time before she forgot everything about him.


End file.
